


I Will Not Shave For Mickey Milkovich

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [24]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Beards, Boyfriends, Fluff, Ian should have a stubble 2k15, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:49:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" "Don't you think I look a little..-” He cuts off his words, not sure how to explain it, for some reason he had a feeling Mickey was secretly forming a collection of razors under their bed just so the beard stayed. "</p><p>Based off a prompt, from a lovely Anon : "I need Ian with a beard (Based on Cameron's periscope stream) and Mickey LOVING it absolute fluff. The more fluff the better lol."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Not Shave For Mickey Milkovich

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this is okay?? I FUCKING LOVED THIS PROMPT BECAUSE I SAW THE STREAM AND I WAS FUCKING DYING AT HOW CUTE AND HOW HOT CAMERON LOOKED SO YARR, this was brilliant 
> 
> Prompt me mo fo's : im-an-angel-y0u-ass.tumblr.com

Mickey can hear Ian rambling to himself as he runs through all the clutter stuffed into the bathroom cabinet. He chuckles to himself, already knowing what he was looking for, he did after all hide them.

 

Ian yells from the bathroom, his tone more diverse, but still frustrated. “Have we seriously got no razors, _again?”_ The light goes out, the mornings were more darker now the year was coming to an end, Ian comes stumbling in his long hung sweats, bare chest, in a slumped motion, a light beard clamped to his face.

 

Mickey shrugs, his sleepy smile echoing through the room. Ian had left shaving for a couple of days, nearly a week and a half now, and his stubble had advanced into a light red beard against his face. As much as Mickey hated beard rash, he really fucking liked the look of Ian with hair scruffily marking his face. Mickey could only just cope with how fucking perfect he looked in the morning; the messy hair, the sleepy eyes, the way his nose would sniffle every now and again. Now, he was stood with a beard that not only matched his hair, but made him look even _more_ adorable. Like a newborn kitten. “Sorry man, you're just gonna have to deal with being Jesus for a couple more days.”

 

The redhead deflates his shoulders, in a hump, he turns to the mirror on the dresser, examining his face from side to side. “Don't you think I look a little..-” He cuts off his words, not sure how to explain it, for some reason he had a feeling Mickey was secretly forming a collection of razors under their bed _just_ so the beard stayed.

 

“What?” Mickey calls out from the bed, pretending to play on his phone while he checked out his frustrated boyfriend.

 

Ian turns, his hand falling from his hair, the whole look was suddenly causing an uprising in Mickey's pants. “A little-” He waves his hands around, hoping Mickey will get the picture that he thought he looked _weird._

 

Mickey was supposed to make a mental note, but instead the word just came tumbling out of his mouth like a bag of bricks. “Hot.”

 

Ian scratches at his chin. “Yeah... wait, what?”He finally understands what Mickey had just said. Like a caught five-year old trying to steal candy, Mickey blushes – trying to look around for any inspiration that might help him at that point.

 

“Hot Pot.” Mickey shouts out, faster than he should of. Ian tilts his head, questioningly. Nodding, Mickey pulls back the blanket and steps out of the bed. “Do you want hot pot for breakfast, I'm fucking _starving.”_ He catches up with a lie in no time, but he already knew Ian heard him, he already knew that Ian would _always be able_ to read him like a book.

 

The taller boy only has to lean to catch onto Mickey's wrist, pulling him back, he nears over to him with a smirk. “So, you _like_ the beard?”

Mickey licks the seam of his lips, one hand gripping onto the drawstrings of Ian's sweats, roughly he pulls Ian closer to himself. There was no denying that he liked the beard, because fuck – if anything was getting him going, it was the god-damn beard on Ian. “So what If I fucking do, what you gonna do about it tough guy?”

 

Ian moans as Mickey's hand trails across his skin, leading up to his chin and softly threading his fingers through the hairs formed against his face. “There's a lot of things I could do, you want me to list them off?”

 

“I'd prefer it if you just _did_ it.” Mickey stumbles backwards, landing hard against the mattress of the bed with a laugh, Ian falls with him – his own body lining up with Mickey's. They both end up chuckling, hands roaming around like they were lost.

 

The redhead leans his chin against Mickey's chest, the hairs tickling against the skin. “You hid them didn't you?” He passes Mickey a I-know-what-you-did look, and chuckles against him, as he refers to the missing razors.

 

“Maybe.” Mickey mutters, more shyly. Why the fuck did Ian make him act like a thirteen year-old girl all the time? “I might want Jesus to hang around for a bit longer.” His hands aimlessly goes back to Ian's chin, the touch against his palm strangely satisfying.

 

“Even if it gives you beard burn?” Ian cackles, his finger tracing over the red mark already forming against Mickey's face, before it trails over Mickey's lips – that he really needed to kiss, like _now._

 

Mickey rolls his eyes, “If you look this fucking good I can deal with a rash, Gallagher.” One of his arms wraps around Ian's shoulder, the other still playing around with the younger boys face, it felt like an obsession, but Ian would most likely call it a fetish. So fucking what, he loved beards, especially when they were displayed on Ian Gallagher's face, deal with it. (It wasn't like he had been thinking about it for the past couple of months)

 

“Good.” Ian closes the gap between them, shuffling upwards in-between Mickey's legs. His lips catch Mickey's, his tongue splitting the seam and finding its way in. In a gasp he utters, “'Cause I'm fucking keeping it.” Mickey groans in pure excitement, his lips running more aggressively at the thought of Ian hooking the look of a bearded-ginger.

 

If a beard got Mickey going...then he could stop shaving for another couple of days.


End file.
